Had a blast in the rain at Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival!

OK.  That’s taken care of.  Did I end that sentence with a preposition?  Sorry.  I worked with a woman many years ago who could rattle off prepositions in alphabetical order at will.  Her third grade teacher made her memorize them and she never forgot.  It was something to do when work was slow or boring or for whatever other reason you could come with.   Oops.  I did it again. 

Query.  Why is oops in my spell check, but not blog? 

I don’t think that I mentioned MD Sheep & Wool.  I got there Saturday morning around 8:15.  I went to the women’s room, bought nasturtiums and took them back to he car.  They hold them for you, but I was afraid that I would have too much to carry or I would forget them.   Besides, it wasn’t far at all to my van.  It pays to come early.  It sprinkled in the afternoon, but not enough to warrant rain gear.  I didn’t buy much, but I probably mentioned that I have enough yarn to last a lifetime.  Maybe when I think I’m going to kick over, I’ll have a contest with the winner getting all my yarn and related paraphernalia. 

I found some pink and gray sock yarn to go with my poncho, but lately I have been thinking about taking it apart and making it into a sweater.  I never wear the stupid poncho, but the yarn is so nice that it deserves something better.  I also have some pink and gray skeins in other yarns, so I’m good.  I was supposed to make a scarf with them, but I never did.   

There was seven  of us this time.  We had a great time.  We ran our mouths for about three hours.  We were loud and other diners were probably not happy about it, but we were oblivious.  Joan went back part-time and I heard they begged  my old supervisor to come back.  Someone said the office has gone from one of the best in the nation to one of the worst.  And I thought it sucked big time when I was working. 

Tomorrow is Sheep and Wool so I am trying to have a quiet evening.  It’s supposed to rain, so there will be plenty of wet crowds to deal with.  I hope the pin lady brings some good pins this year because I was not impressed with anything she had last year.  According to Ravelry last night, over four hundred members said they were coming including.  I just hope I remember to head over to the rabbit house at noon.  I also hope that I remember to take my camera.  My neighbor doesn’t believe me that giant Angora rabbits exist.

Not Impressed

I had a little reminder this weekend of who I am — who I really am, grown-up me, when I’m not ever-fraught mummy, best-supporting spouse, finance-and-household officer, lost-and-confused nomad. When I am just me, the way I was –oh! — so many years ago. This weekend, we took my sister’s car back to her and combined it with a side-trip to the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival.

That I spent more money than I had budgeted for, or even that I had to spend, was no matter. That my mother and sister and dear children were bored, hot, and exhausted made no difference to me at all. That there was next to nothing that I could eat and so I went all day so little food that it would have normally had me shaking with hunger was no problem. I was in my element, I was beside myself with excitement, I felt like myself again — it was marvelous! My sister looked at my face at one point and laughed out loud. “You look crazed!” she said. “You’re so excited. You’re like a kid!”

And, looking back, it taught me a few things as well. I realised just how much I need to make a bit of time each day to do something for me, something that makes me feel productive, creative, and which I love (…besides raising my daughters — which I do love with all my soul, but you know what I mean). I don’t get that time these days — hardly ever — and I didn’t realise how much I missed it until I was immersed in so many things I’d love to spend that time doing, if only I had it again.

I realised I am in serious need of some local fibre-friends who really get what this means to me. And, so I don’t have to subject my poor family to any more long, hot, dirty days at the county fairgrounds, surrounded by bleating sheep and a frenzied me. They were patient, but we were on two different planets.

And… I realised that when it’s time to go back to work (which M increasingly is hinting is now), I need to do everything I can to find a job that really fulfills me. I want to work in a field that leaves me feeling as alive inside as I felt this weekend, something that permeates my dreams the way it did, something that inspires me so much that I would forgo precious sleep and get up 3 hours early just in order to go back on my own for more. I dread the thought of going back to work because I dreaded the work I used to do. I want to love my work. I want to be productive and creative and passionate about my work. I want that heart-pounding, mouth-salivating excitement that I felt this weekend.

I have no idea how I’ll pull that off. But I am old enough now, and experienced enough, to know that I don’t want to settle for anything less.